This is the dream
by Kuro Guardian
Summary: They hadn't told her... she would have perferred they had.  Ino coming apart at the seams...


She hadn't been told how it would get away from her - the searching, rooting tendrils of power from within her own mind. Hadn't been told that as she laid sleeping it would run amuck dipping into the great dark turbulence of a ninja village's collective mind - collected night-hive buzzing dire warnings in her inner ear. No one had thought to mention this but her father bought her a beautiful, thick leather-bound notebook and her mother bought her a tea set complete with chamomile teabags. At the time she hadn't known what it meant only that they were being weird in a really sweet way. She can still see herself smiling at them; can still see the clean, smooth pages of that first volume; can finally see the way her mother's eyes were screaming. She'd have preferred they simply told her.

08-45-67H

_This is the dream, this is the dream, this is the dream!" A single drop of claret, wine, red blood from the point where the silver-spark needle thread bisects his shallow skin. This the - "End" Lantern eyes as the room walls scream - "hurts" and he cannot remember if - when it did not, but he is not afraid ye though his mind be shattered he will find a way or make one. It's all he has left - "please"._

She cannot walk far during the day too busy ignoring how the dream soul overlays the real faces. The way the eyes tell tales of what they really want. How hands linger and smiles are faked. It's always too hot sweat plastering her hair to her face - the roots showing black now. Another change they hadn't bothered to mention. So many like the way her eyes have darken to an almost purple. She sighs sitting in the shade. Her backpack digs into her shoulders heavy with the dream-interpretation text she's "borrowed" from Shikamaru's library. Apparently it was a gift from _his_ father - they might have just told her dammit! So hot.

Sweat running down her face into her eyes. Blinks seeing the cup in her hands well-used in so short a timeframe. It's cool the window open and she decides not to wonder how she got back here. Her book bag lies on her bed, her clothes all around her and it smells like cigarettes. The golden sheen of tea staring up at her reminds her of the loud one. Anko. Anko-san dreams of tea sets and snake eyes, blood and babies. And bodies. Head jerking up she can't the air to scream, her hands shake spilling the tea on the wavering type. Shit she's gone and ruined Shikamaru's book. Shame she can't remember when she opened it. Her eyes burn as she struggles not to sleep knowing it ruins her cycles. Not that it matters she hasn't slept well since this began.

04-55-613A

_Listen - this is the dream - a little girl holds hands with a little boy and behind them stands a happy woman and a silent man and a bright blue house with a white picket fence. This is the dream - a waif screaming at her loving cardboard parents - storm scared mother and sky-distant father as somewhere between her stilt-long legs she bleeds because she is LOVED, loved long and hard and totally indecently. "Listen!"_

Her head snaps up and she shivers again mouth dry and gamy. It's the only reason she doesn't force Sakura into a closet talon-fingers up her twat as she strangles her heart with her tongue. The only reason when she needs something anything to forget the devouring maw of the Hyuuga household forever incestuous. She can see the memories behind the dreams now, can read the meaning in the measures of it and she… The overbearing smell of disinfectant and sickness are turning her stomach, pounding her head. The world is blurred from fatigue and stress and a certain wetness between the legs. "Ino are you okay?" Her swollen tongue sticks to the ceiling of her cotton-mouth. She kisses Sakura anyway as she fingers herself. The cold compress on her cheek is not enough to make her repent., but the night brings her punishment and by daybreak she can no longer look into those boundless green eyes.

105-4-320-4H5

_See- this is the dream: they'll - they're - they've all lived happily ever after and now they're underground and the worms-_

She wakes up stretched out on the ground with a crowd staring down at her morbid curiosity in their eyes .

_- are eating them alive yeah. Like flowers - poppies quietly flash-drived into lust promiscuous decay like smiling red. See they're dying; see they struggle in their boxes trying to be happy as he breaks his nails the dirt in his cuticles in their mouths. Digging digging digging. His robes are blue, red, white, black as he digs and he cries losing losing lost despite his strength._

She stares into the elderly face and laughs ignoring the hysterical tinge. Only a few more months of this and then she'll only have to worry about the daytime hours. Her angry red fists beat the mattress beneath her. She never seems to get out anymore too busy coming apart, her life scattering at the seams. But that's okay - _only a few more months of this. _Then she'll only have to worry about the random thoughts and motives scurrying amid diurnal-cautious minds instead of the labyrinth of nocturnal darkness - which is just _so_ much better. Unless…

Unless it gets worse, as she gets stronger. She can feel her parent's worry beside the door. And she doesn't care because this is how Naruto must feel with everyone knowing his business, but him. At least a warning, anything but being told too much too late and even then never enough. Her fingers are digging little red pits into her hands as tightly as she clutches them. The elder leans forward trying to be sympathetic though her greed. "So much potential - if only you'll grasp it." She can't help she laughs spittle flying onto the old, stupid cow-eye bitch's face.

08-4, 3:45

_I had a dream - she came to me and I drank the wine from the cup of her narrow white hands. She smiled face like a mask as I screamed hand a beast's - knees reversed and the lust, bloodlust and sex lust made me. I didn't want to, I didn't want to._

She still smells of sex the sweat drying into grainy salt trails down her back, between her perky breasts, over and under and between her healthy thighs. She's slept with half the males she knows trying to see the hatred, the disgust, the fear that makes them think and dream what they do. Her eyes never leave the creamy page as he walks out of her tiny bathroom toweling his face dry - his body is a treasure she covets despite knowing, knowing how badly he's trying to destroy it. He smiles at her and she laughs knowing their families would never tolerate this if they knew.

10-10, 9:06

_Every blessed dream - I burn as I tear them apart. The room blazes no matter how much of their blood I douse it with. My skin blisters, bubbles - melts off. The pain, I was taught the pain could not cross from life to sleep or back again. I thought - I, I. I have real scars._

So she signs it looking rather fragile, looking neither right nor left. Her career like her life neatly circumstanced into a package totally benefiting this ever-blessed village. It can't be helped, her "potential" has moved from reading minds to being them - an excellent trait for an investigator, a lie-detector, an interrogator. A very poor trait in the field when every encounter is like her old technique times twelve. Every blade pierces her and every thought enters her. Besides she's discovered that too much pressure leads to … explosive results. She'd nearly killed Chouji and Shikamaru several times overall already.

She knows people as she might know herself, better then actually. So she knows that no one really cares how this effects her and the one's that do are seriously outnumbered. Listlessly she fingers her faded black hair too tired to dye it anything any longer. Her ultraviolet eyes scan over her hands the nails bitten, the tips inflamed. "Anything else Hokage-sama?" The prescribed concern wars with the responsibilities of the office, the questions - demands are almost on the tip of the sharp tongue. "No, you may go."

At least four more bodies in this room then are showing themselves. One of them she knows well could almost accuse of molesting her in the sanctity of her mind if he weren't what she wanted. Ibiki's dark eyes follow her from the dark corner- his dick twitches in the confines of his pants and she smiles knowing he wants to be whipped, to be forced - to be the real victim instead of just pretending. She smiles knowing he knows well the route to her rooms, knowing as well as she that she'll give him scars.

111-455-04B

_She died - this time and last time she died and I didn't do a thing. I- well I laughed. I laughed and clapped as she is flayed into just so much excess flesh. Hate her, hate the very sight of her, and I love her because she'll never love me back, never never never and so long as she doesn't I'll be able to love Him._

She knows they've read it psychic impressions lingering like fingerprints and scent on her precious suede book volume seven of nine. Doesn't matter her mind gone so often now she can no longer see how it _ever_ really matter. She is literally losing her mind and no one knows how to stop it any longer. Honestly they never did, all their talks of potential a lie to sooth themselves. "Sakura, I'm cold." The hospital bed is hard and the lights too bright… The thin, white straps pulled tight.

With her eyes she traces the veins in her arm - blue as herringbone in chinaware. Remembers her first dream -Sasuke underneath the hill- and tries to reach up to finger her uncapped teeth. Her skin is like paper and if she watches closely she can see the movements her pulse makes with it. She can't remember her birthday, but she knows that her mother thought she was going to die in childbirth. Can't remember her favorite food, but she could explain exactly why Naruto loves ramen and the complete details of his first experience with it. Can't even name the flowers she used to love so well, but Hinata's garden is engraved firmly in her mind. With a smile she decides the dreams aren't what she should have been afraid of…

000-000-001I

_As blue as heaven, as wide as God, and cheap as sleep she laughs: Her hair glows like the stares men covet, the thoughts men hide - she cradles the child of air, loves the man of shadows, and kisses the world she curls within like a fox within it's den._

_- Ino_

_P.S. It got too hard, I couldn't carry this load - sorry._


End file.
